


Swimming a bit Deeper

by Zillidan



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Dream Sex, F/F, Face-Sitting, Old Gods, Rape/Non-con Elements, The Void
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 22:37:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18214574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zillidan/pseuds/Zillidan
Summary: Lyra's travels have taken her to Tirisfal and in a moment on her own, a dream takes her to a place in which she might never break free.





	Swimming a bit Deeper

It was a cool, quiet night on the east side of Tirisfal Glades. Nightfall in the already gloomy area of the dead land was particularly dark, any light seemingly swallowed up by the great shadow that hung over the land. It had been a long time since the area saw major conflict, the last time being when the last king of Lordaeron fell and went through a series of transactions before it fell into the hands of Sylvanas Windrunner, the Banshee Queen, and her freed group of Undead known as the Forsaken. Though a coup had been attempted, the hostile and rotting landscape remained peaceful for a time, at least until recently. War had come to the shores of the region, spurred on by the destruction of the Night Elves home, the World Tree Teldrassil, and now the Alliance had set its eyes on the Undercity, looking to deal a mortal blow to the Banshee Queen and reclaiming the lost Human Kingdom. A destructive swath was cut through and the Alliance were on the brink of victory, but at the last moment, Sylvanas blighted her own home, spoiling the recapture from the Alliance and sending everyone home packing and the region became even quieter than before. Some Horde forces remained, clinging to what scraps they could, but for the most part, Tirisfal was empty.

Far away, on the eastern edge near the Bulwark, the Forsaken major fortification against whatever warring forces may come from the Plaguelands, a small tent was set up high on a hill near a secret mountain pass. A small fire pit outside lay dormant, the smell of stale ash and burnt wood slowly wafting over the cold hearth. Across, two steeds were off to the side, one fast asleep while the other, a skeletal steed, instead lay dormant, waiting out the night. The small tent wasn’t very roomy or well made, but it served its purpose. The flap swayed back and forth with the breeze as the darkness inside hid the denizens. Suddenly, a bare hand pushed the flap and a figure emerged. She was very underdressed, only wearing a thin shirt over her bra covered bust and a pair of slacks covering her bare legs. She had a long knife strapped to her leg and her long purple hair lay over her lithe form, shimmering purple tendrils at the tips almost looking like they were somewhat sentient. Her eyes glowed an enticing azure shimmer and she blinked a couple of times, the cold seemingly not bothering her one bit. She walked over and stomped her bare foot on the cold coals, confirming they weren't giving away any light to the area, before walking a couple of feet more to the edge and sitting down. The woman gazed over the area, her eyes blinking as she studied intently the land she had travelled a lot over the last few years. It felt weird, being hidden in the mountains when she usually walked the path through the front door. Flexing her hand she placed it on the soft earth and closed her eyes. The soft wailing of hundreds of ghosts filled her ears, telling her everything and nothing at the same time. Pulling her hand free she rubbed her eyes and looked out once more.

“What are you doing Lyra? Coming back here, even if its mostly abandoned, just you against elite rangers.”

It wasn't just her, however. She glanced back into the tend and saw the shape of a form in the darkness, slowly breathing in and out, fast asleep. She shifted her position and simply stared at the sleeping woman, a smile creeping to her face involuntarily. Mirendis had shown up at her tent only a day prior and instantly shattered Lyra’s perceptions and wildest dreams. Her silver tongue and her seductive appeal had won Lyra over years ago and it only took a look to get both of their clothes off and for the mistress of the underworld to steal something most precious to Lyra, her virginity. Now, one night later, Lyra sat there and watched her sleep, knowing that at least in this foolish errand of hunting her own kin, she had someone with a way around combat next to her.

As she sat there, staring at this new lover in her life, she felt the sensation of a hand moving up her back. It was cold, frigid as the tundra of Northrend itself, causing her to arch in discomfort. Turning back she saw nothing, but the sensation still followed her from behind. She knew exactly what was teasing and taunting her, the slow murmur of a force drilling into the back of her skull with a slow whisper. The Void’s familiar ramblings of unintelligible whispering were slowly engulfing the back of her head, her eyes clenching shut as she fought against the hundreds..no.. thousands of voice slowly soaking into her brain. They grew louder and louder, painfully ringing in her ears as all she wanted to do was shout for someone, anyone, to make it stop, and then….gone. The voices completely disappeared. Her head throbbed as the venomous dripping words of a sultry female voice, one she hadn’t heard for years, filled her mind.

“Good...you are on the path now…. the path to us. Your reward….a taste of your full potential….”

Her eyes shot open, but only blackness filled them. She cried out for Mirendis, her voice being lost in a muffled hush like she was in the blackness if the deep ocean. Slowly, she felt her eyes droop as the same message from the female repeated itself over and over and she felt her head hit the earth with a dull thud, and then nothing.

Lyra’s eyes blinked open, staring at the floor of wet stone, the sound of water dripping in a musty, damp underground sewer space. Her head still rang from the impact, yet as she moved to rub her skull, her hand rattled against a set of chains. Glancing up she was in a cell of some kind, chained to a wall, with only a couple of torches lighting the hall. There was something familiar with the entire room, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She sat there in silence for a few minutes before the sound of a door opened. Light poured into the hallway and the shadow of a hunched figure lurched down, clacking on the cobblestone floor. The sudden burst of brightness blinded Lyra, shielding her eyes as best she could before the growing clacking stopped. The soft jingle of keys and the horrendous screeching of the gate brought Lyra’s gaze up.

“You...prisoner… the mistress wishes to speak with you.”

The voice sounded like gravel, horrid breath filling the air as her bindings were released and she was shoved forward. The Forsaken guard would be no match for Lyra, but something in her felt compelled to just.. Obey and go along. She felt week, powerless, no drive to act. As the Forsaken lead her through the tunnels, she knew exactly where she was. The underground prison in the Undercity was well visited by Lyra and her compatriots. This, however, was not the same prison. It was the exact same, but every so often it would be different than she remembered. Was she captured in the night? She had clearly been keeping watch and darkened the camp. How did the Forsaken find her? How was she not dying to the blight? In fact, the green fog in the air was seemingly just a decoration, not killing her as it was designed to. Finally, she was pushed through one last large door and there in front of her was the Lordaeron throne room. It was different than she remembered and not at all connected to the prison. The door was shut behind her and she was left on her own.

Only the centre of the room, the discoloured symbol of the previous owners of the castle, and the throne itself were lit. The rest of the room was pitch dark and fully devoid of light, save for the purple wisps she could have sworn she had seen yet disappeared once she glanced that way.

“Power… the ability to dominate anyone who stands in your way.”

The same voice rang in her head as she glanced back, seeing nothing.

“Why do you face away from your General Lyra?”

That voice… turning back she saw her leaning casually on the throne. There she sat, in her purple chain armour, wine coloured hood, red eyes poking out with the tears that were etched onto her broken face the day she died. Her clawed gauntlets drummed on the throne, her armour legs crossed as she wore a scowl on her face.

“Sylvanas.. It has been a while since we last spoke.” Her legs slowly uncrossed as she sat up, glaring down at the Void Elf and shaking her head. “It was a mistake letting you go Miss Deathwalker, taking down some of my Rangers on your way out of my Forsaken has put you on a dangerous list. Luckily, we found you and your little friend camping nearby before you two could do anything you may regret.”

Lyra growled and curled her fist. “What have you done with Mirendis?” Her head shook and the voice rang once more. “Focus on the task, cast off those that avert your gaze from your full potential”

She furrowed her brow as she imagined Mirendis in her mind. Her cute friend and lover, the dangerous smirk, the way her face looked when in the light just right, slowly melt from her mind as the void clouded her thoughts and she focused on Sylvanas in front of her.

“She is gone, disposed of, quite enjoyable actually.” Next to the throne light apparated out of nowhere and there strung up by all her limbs was the corpse of Mirendis. Completely naked, cuts all over her body, and her flower glistening and seemingly well used. “Of course, we had fun with her before she went. No shame in the treatment of a traitor.. is there?”

Screaming out, Lyra charged forward. Sylvanas’ lower half dissolved into smoke and in an instant, she was next to Lyra. Her hand clasped around her neck and lifted Lyra into the air, feeling her vision fail as her breathing was cut off. “Such a shame too, you could have been one of our greatest, but instead you will die here.”

As blackness filled her body, the purple wisp filled her gaze and the voice rang out. “Power… the ability to dominate anyone in your way… it's in your heritage, your blood, the path you sought…”

In her weakness, Lyra felt the Void invade her form. Blackness filled her mind and heart and soon her eyes shot open. Void coalesced into her palm and pushed the Banshee queen away. Suddenly, the cocky and confident Sylvanas was melted away into a fearful Ranger-General. The whispers in her mind began to make sense. They spoke to her, telling her how great she was, powerful, strong, sexy, that she could do anything, she could feel anything. At that moment, Lyra was the most powerful being in existence.

“Those who wield our power must make those who defy us pay. She killed your lover, what are you going to do?” As Lyra thought, her mind was being guided towards a certain dark path. She was dwelling on the worst deeds, torture, a slow death. Suddenly, a smirk came across her face. She marched forward and grabbed Sylvanas, pulling at her armour and watching the shadow wash it all away. Her lithe dead form, small breasts, curled white bush and grey form was completely on display. 

“No…. stop…. Please don't do this Lyra.”

She reached down and grabbed at her throat, pushing her into the ground.

“No… you deserve this, you monster.”

Ripping her pants down, she sat her own slit down onto the face of the Banshee Queen. Sylvanas only squirmed and did nothing, angering Lyra who slapped her back across the face.

“Fool...use the power we promised you.”

Void filled her hands and she pressed them on either side of her gaunt face. She shrieks of a Banshee would never prepare one for the awful crying wail that came from her, the shriek of absolute torturous pain. The eyes of Sylvanas were glowing purple now as she licked away at the slit of Lyra. She continued administering pain, watching Sylvanas writhe in pain as she continued to pleasure the Dark Ranger. The blackness in her mind, the same blackness that Mirendis had previously needed to pull her out of, contained Lyra as the Void used her to exact revenge on someone she used to love. Lyra felt her legs give as she came all over the face of Sylvanas throwing her head back in pleasure.

“Good….” The voice rang in her head. Lyra closed her eyes proudly, before hearing the sounds of screaming. Her eyes opened and there she was, sitting on a throne staring out over a horrible landscape. Large ziggurats and obelisks paved the entire landscape. Minions of the Old Gods, faceless ones, and other entities littered the landscape, forcing others to build monuments to horrible looking creatures. She looked down and noticed she was in a sultry black gown, her sex exposed, and surrounded by a harem of girls she had known over the years, a living Sylvanas, Mirendis as she remembered he in Silvermoon, friends, love interests, all naked and chained around her, tears flowing from their face as she gazed out.

“Gaze upon our empire, the future you will be a part of once you give in. Life will be yours. Prosperity, power, riches, anything….you will rule this world alongside us.”

Lyra felt a feeling well in her chest, shadow wafting off of her form as she cried out, anxiety filling her and panic as the mere sight of this empire was driving her to the brink. She got up off of the throne and jumped, the throne now shown to be on top of a nightmarish creature. As she fell the beast with thousands of teeth and hundreds of eyes shrieked at her, its maw opening and engulfing her inside. She felt her entire body become torn to pieces and all she could do was scream as darkness took her.

Bolting awake, Lyra squinted as the rising sun invaded her vision. She sat up, brushing the dirt out of her hair as she looked around. She...slept.. For the first time in what felt like ages. She never wanted to sleep again, not if it was from the Void. The light of the sun seemingly was enough to push the darkness from her, the whispers completely went now. She glanced back towards Mirendis, still entirely asleep, and breathing a sigh of relief. She sat back and gazed to the sun, thinking back to what she had just seen. The Void giving her the power to conquer the world? Giving her a place amongst their Black Empire? The Void was useful, but not trusting. The only one she could trust right now was sleeping a few feet from her. She decided, for now, to keep this one to herself. She crept back inside the tent and curled up next to her lover, keeping the flap open. This morning it felt nice to sit in the sun away from darkness, and next to someone genuinely loved.


End file.
